Coffee Misadventures
by Fallen Leafs
Summary: Kenny really shouldn't have given Kyle coffee. Or a squirrel. Gift fic for NekoKnight217. Happy Birthday, you nut. Style. One-shot. Rating for coarse language.  I think. Really can't be bothered to check.


**Happy Birthday, Cici!**

**Coffee Misadventures**

Stan was stuck. He had to name YET ANOTHER important male character in this god-forsaken novel, and he was truly, honestly terrible at naming characters. He'd already used all his favorite guy names (Kyle, Christopher, Kenneth, Nick, Axel, Daniel) and was simply stuck. With a dissatisfied groan, he snatched up his phone, dialing a number he'd memorized more than three years ago. _Gonna Go Far Kid_ by _The Offspring_ blasted in his ear as a ringtone and Stan mentally cursed; that stupid song would be stuck in his head all day now. Luckily, Kyle picked up the phone quickly.

"_With a thousand lies and a good disguise_..." the redhead sang softly, before greeting warmly, "Hey, Stan! I thought you were going on a writing binge?"

"I am..." Stan sighed, cheered up a bit by his friend's voice, "But you know how terrible I am at naming characters."

"Ooh! Ooh! Name him Kyle!"

"I already have a Kyle. Kyle is my default name. My protagonist is ALWAYS Kyle, unless I think of something more fitting..."

"Uh... Name him Izzy!"

"Izzy?"

"Yeah! It's an epic name."

Stan chuckled, shaking his head at Kyle's antics. "Did someone let you have coffee?"

A beat of silence. "... No."

"Liar. You know what happens when you drink coffee."

"But it's so GOOD! I mean, the high is fantastic and- _holymotherfuckingshit_!"

Stan tensed, not recognizing the joyous tone in his voice. "What?"

"KENNY JUST CRAWLED THROUGH MY WINDOW WITH A SQUIRREL! AND _MORE COFFEE_!"_ ~click._

After a moment's pause, Stan snapped his cellphone shut and set in on the counter. Robotically, he wrote _Izzy_ in the much-erased space next to _"I suppose it couldn't hurt to let you know my name. But then again... What if, by some stretch of the imagination, you escaped? Uh... Call me /."_ As an after thought, the raven-haired teen scribbled _"That's what mama called me when I was in elementary school."_

Curiously, his head tilted to the side._ This could make for an interesting character..._

With a sigh, Stan reached for his combat boots, knowing it was snowing pretty heavily outside and not wanting to deal with wet socks. Lacing them up with long-practiced ease, the writer stood, shrugging on the military-esque jacket his mother had verbally labeled "Grunge" and shoving his hat on his head, glancing in the mirror and laughing.

Somehow, he'd ended up with Ike's hat. He would look pretty bad-ass if it weren't for the black-and-pink cat ears sticking out of his head.

Reminding himself he'd better hurry before the redhead crashed down from his caffeine high, Stan calmly opened the window, eyed the drop, and muttered to himself with a smirk, "You know what they say."

Jumping out with a maniac grin, he shouted "TUCK AND ROLL!"

OoO

Setting her camera down, Ms. Maple smiled. She had more than fifteen minutes worth of clip, JUST of the little Marsh boy jumping out of the second story window screaming "TUCK AND ROLL!"

What? Old people have to do_ some_thing all day!

She replayed the clip, listening to the muffled shout repeat in the film she'd collected. _"Tuck and roll! Tuck and roll! Tuck and-Omigod! Tuck and ROLL! Tuck and roll! Tuck-ack! Tuck and roll! Tuck and roll!"_

He kinda reminded her of her grandson's weird college-buddies.

OoO

Stan grinned as he reached Kyle's window. It was very easy to climb; Only maybe eight feet off the ground, being first-story but on a hill, and the sapling nearby was sturdy enough to climb easily. Yes, the back door was only a a dozen yards away, but this is just more _fun_. The window was still cracked from Kenny's entrance, so it was easy to pull it up and scramble through. Shaking himself off, the raven shrugged off his jacket, listening to his friends giggle conspiratorially. With a tired sigh, ripping off Ike's hat, Stan looked up. Just in time to see a bundle of brown fur _fly_ at him.

With an unmanly shriek, he dodged, watching the squirrel fly past him, out the window, in horror.

He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Watched the squirrel scurry away. Listened to his friends fall in pieces in uproarious laughter.

"Kenneth C. McCormick." Stan rumbled calmly, "Did you bring a squirrel into Kyle's room and then throw it at me?"

"I also gave Kyle expresso."

"_Yo-ou_ little bastard."

Kenny grinned, pecking the almost _vibrating_ Kyle on the cheek with a little difficulty and hightailed it out the door. Stan sighed, watching Kyle roll head-first across the carpet in vague amusement, letting him roll right up to his leather-clad feet.

Unfurling from his tight 'rolling-ball' (as he named it in second grade after his first-ever cup of coffee), Kyle greeted Stan with a hug around the knees and a rushed greeting, _"Hey-Stan-whats-up-did-you-name-him-Izzy-I-hope-so-I-like-the-name-Izzy-I-think-its-cool-don't-you-Kenny-was-here-he-gave-me-coffee-did-you-know-squirrels-are-really-soft?"_

Blinking down at the redhead clinging to his knees, Stan smiled. "Hi, Kyle. I did name him Izzy. I do like the name. I know Kenny was here. He's in trouble for giving you coffee. Don't give me that look, he _knows_ what happens when you have coffee. And I don't think I've ever touched a squirrel."

Kyle squealed, curling back up and beginning to roll backwards, still talking a mile a minute. _"I'm-glad-you-named-him-Izzy-but-you-shouldn't-be-mad-at-Kenny-he's-nice-he-gave-me-coffee-and-squirrels-have-fluffy-tails!"_

He sprang up, bouncing in place, hair flying everywhere and an impossibly wide grin on his face. _"I-feel-weird-Stan!"_ he gasped, and all at once, he stopped all movement. His eyes drooped and he began to sway in place. Stan's eyes widened and he reached out to catch him around the waist before he fell, easily dragging him over to the bed and lying him down.

The redhead blinked dizzily up at the ceiling and Stan giggled. He reached up unsteadily, grasping for the ceiling with a weird expression. "Aw, shit, man. Where'd you go?" He said it all very slow, and slightly slurred.

The raven moved into his line of vision, leaning over him with a smirk. "Do you remember why you don't drink coffee now?"

Kyle blinked slowly at him. "... Y-yeah. S'like fuckin' drug. I feel funny." his brow furrowed. Laughing at his super-best-friend's distress, Stan sat on the bed, pulling off his boots and tugging a blanket up to cover up the reeling teen. "Sleep a bit, Ky. You'll feel better."

Obediently, Kyle shut his eyes, curling in on himself slightly. "Stay?"

"Of course."

OoO

Kyle woke up slowly, eyes blinking away the blurriness of sleep, to see Stan sitting on his bed, notebook propped up and pen scribbling away furiously, stopping every now and then to reposition his sliding notebook. Vaguely, Kyle wondered why he didn't use his other hand to keep it steady.

A moment or two later, he recognized that he was clinging to said other hand. "Sorry." he mumbled, letting it go after a brief squeeze. Stan flashed him a grin, setting aside his notebook.

"Good friends know you shouldn't have coffee and make sure you don't. Best friends know you shouldn't have coffee and delight in giving it to you. Super best friends hold your hand while you sleep off the caffeine crash."

"Thanks, Stan. How long have I been out?" the redhead asked, stretching, arching his back dramatically. Worriedly, the brunette placed his his hand on the arch of his spine, assuring himself it hadn't snapped. The redhead grinned, diving to the ground, standing quickly and facing away from his best friend.

Smirking to himself, he fell into a dramatic back-bend. Stan stifled a gasp. Kyle grinned, straightening. Still intent on showing off, the redhead placed a hand against the wall for support and, slowly as to not hurt himself, rose his left leg straight up, bending to form a side-ways T.

"Jesus motherfucking Christ."

Kyle snorted, falling to a normal standing position. "Told you Yoga isn't a joke."

Stan shook his head, dazed. "An hour."

"Huh?"

"You were out for an hour."

Instantly, Kyle felt guilty. "I know I shouldn't have had coffee... Didn't mean to break you from your writing binge."

Stan shook his head, standing and stretching himself. "Whatever, dude. You know I could care less. And I got some character sheets down." Kyle shook his head. "That's busy work for you. I bet your still remember the eye color of that character you made in fourth grade for _Silence_."

Stan looked thoughtful. "Who, Joseph? Hazel. Or do you mean Kragon? Mierra? Green and brown, respectively." Kyle gave him a weird look. "Dude, that was... Four years ago."

Stan blinked at him. "So?"

With a brief hug, Kyle mumbled, "See? Busy work. I'm sorry."

Stan reached out, grabbing the redhead around the wrist and yanking him into a fond hug. Relaxing his hold, the raven tilted his head up to smile warmly at the sickly teen standing between his legs. "Don't worry about it. You're more important."

Kyle's heart leapt, a blush warming his cheeks. Damn, but did he have to be so sweet?

"But, Stan... You don't have to be there for every cold, every migraine, every coffee misadventure..."

Stan smiled that maddeningly sweet smile, still not releasing the redhead. "And you don't have to be at every track meet, every football, basketball, and baseball game, every wrestling match... Heck, I don't even really want you there! It's always cold and you get sick. But you are, and I am."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "So basically, I'm always sick, and you're always playing a sport, so obviously, we must be supportive of each other."

Stan continued to grin, stroking his super-best-friend's hip. "Obviously."

"You're a nut."

"You love me."

"Says who?"

"Are you saying you don't?"

Stan stood, towering over the fragile daywalker. Slowly, Kyle tilted his head back to meet the smirking jock's eye. "... I feel small."

"You _are_ small. Tiny and delicate and fragile and-_ow-ww_! What was that for?"

Kyle was blushing again. "I am _of fragile health_." he growled, quoting his doctor. Stan patted him on the head patronizingly.

"Sure, honey. Sure."

"Oh, that's it!"

Kyle backed up slightly before ramming his shoulder into his super-best-friend's sternum, yelping when he actually _moved_, falling back onto the bed. Unprepared, the redhead sprawled across Stan's chest.

Mortified, Kyle stared into his laughing best friend's eyes. "Jesus, Ky, you alright? You sounded like a damn puppy! What kind of teenage boy _yelps_?"

Deciding not to mention his more-than-likely bruised ribs, he muttered spitefully, "Well, asshole, I'm not used to any movement other than _walking_. I don't _tackle_ people on a regular basis like you. And I wasn't expecting you to fall!"

"Well..."

"What?"

"I wanted to make you feel strong, so I fell over for you."

If it weren't for the genuinely _sweet_ expression on his face, Kyle probably would have murdered him. As it was, he wilted against his chest. "If you weren't so goddamn _necessary_ to my over-all health and well-being, I'd smother you in your sleep."

"I love you, too."

"Who says that _the_ Kyle Broflovski loves a _peon_ like _you_?" Kyle scoffed like a snotty brat, drawing himself up to look down his nose at Stan. Comfortable with their close proximity, Stan grinned at the haughty redhead straddling him, resting his hands on his thighs.

"You, of course."

Kyle scoffed. "When?"

"I believe the last time was... Yesterday? When it rained and you forgot an umbrella? And _I_ remembered to grab you a rain jacket, because I'm your best friend?" Stan teased, rubbing circles with his thumbs into the spot just above his knees. Kyle relaxed slightly.

"Or, how about Monday? When I stayed home with you because you got the stomach bug and had to clean up after a sicky, fevery Ginger of Fragile Health? Or when I caught you from falling last week and you just up and decided to kiss me on the cheek and tell me you love me?"

Kyle was bright red. "I was high on laughing gas!"

Stan suddenly turned serious. "How much of your appointment with the dentist do you remember?"

"Not a moment. Why?"

"Somewhere between the nurse leaving after giving you the drug and the dentist coming in, you called me Kyle, insisted your name was Kenny, and tried to make me confess to loving Stan."

Kyle snorted. "Seriously?"

"You were pretty out of it."

Stan drew his legs up, and Kyle leaned back on them, wincing slightly.

"Dammit, Ky, I hurt you, didn't I?" Stan cursed, hands ghosting over his ribs and making him squirm. "Its fine, Stan. I bruise like nobody's business."

"It's just... I have a strong urge to punch myself."

"Why? You don't punch the people who bruise me anymore."

"... Yeah. Right."

"Dammit, Stan!"

"I can't help it! I'm already the school punk. Might as well reinforce it with some rough-housing." Stan whined, jokingly punching himself across the jaw.

Kyle scowled. Stan grinned. "Isn't it weird that you're so comfortable _sitting in my lap_?"

Kyle blinked at him. "Isn't it weird that _you're_ comfortable _with_ me sitting in your lap?"

Stan sat up suddenly, an odd look in his eye. "Isn't it weird that it doesn't seem unnatural to have you here, like this?"

He was right. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, to be surrounded by Stan, to have his arms and legs and chest shield him from the rest of the world for a moment.

He was awful close. Stan was practically devouring him with his eyes, taking in the swirling emotion in his bright green eyes, the tinge of blush hiding the freckles splattered across his pale face, the way his lips were parted to breathe in the other's breath. Subconsciously, the raven licked his lips, and Kyle felt his gaze drawn to them.

"Well, isn't it weird..." the redhead trailed off, gathering his courage. "Isn't it weird that I really want to kiss you?"

Kyle glanced up at the chocolate-brown eyes he'd memorized when he was four or five. He found himself transfixed, watching him blink and lean closer with a tiny smile. "Isn't it weird that the sentiment is returned?"

"No." Kyle murmured, leaning forward until their lips brushed with every breath of air. "I don't think that's weird at all."

Stan pressed his lips against Kyle's, and the redhead couldn't help but think how warm and soft they were. Time stood still for a moment.

Finally, Kyle pulled back with a small blush. "Do you know what you're supposed to do?"

Stan shrugged. "Wendy didn't really do kissing."

"I mean, I've read it in books, but it didn't ever really make sense. Are we supposed to move... Our lips? It doesn't make sense at all..."

"Ky, I've _written_ it and I don't get it. Let's just figure it out ourselves."

"O-okay."

Their lips met again, and, awkwardly, they moved against each another, bumping their noses together. Stan's hands rose to cradle the redhead's cheeks, and Kyle's pale, almost-disproportionately-tiny hands tangled in the raven's ebony locks.

They parted for air, eyes locked, and Stan moved to kiss along his jaw, his cheeks, around his eyes, everywhere. Kyle sighed.

"It doesn't feel weird."

Stan pressed their lips together again. "It feels right."

The pair sat in silence, watching each other and enjoying each other's close proximity. Finally, Kyle murmured, "And for the record, I _do_ love you. You're my world."

Stan grinned. "I love you, too, Kyle."

From his place in the doorway, Ike snorts. "I _knew_ you guys were gay for each other."

"Wait, Ike-Dammit Ike! Get back here with that camera! IKE BROFLOVSKI!"

**Edit: 03/18/11**

**The Tuck and Roll thing was inspired by my brother's friend, who smiled at me, saluted, muttered "You know what they say..." Then jumped off a twenty-foot cliff screaming "TUCK AND ROLL!" I could just **_**see **_**this version of Stan doing it. I based him kinda off of my brother's college buddies. I know this was stupid and pointless. I encourage you to review anyway!**


End file.
